


Searching For Freedom

by AuroraKant



Series: Whumptober2020 [24]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe - Space, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Dick Grayson, Batfamily (DCU) Feels, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, But In Space, Canon-Typical Violence, Dick Grayson Gets a Hug, Dick Grayson is a Talon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Gen, Happy Ending, Hell... BAMF Batfamily, Hugs, Human Rights Issues, Hurt Dick Grayson, Outer Space, Space AU, Space Slavery, The Batfamily But They Are SPACE PIRATES, they love each other okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:41:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27193238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraKant/pseuds/AuroraKant
Summary: Dick's voice was harsh and commanding, when he spoke next, the scar on his cheek pulling taut with all the stress he was under:“Captain Wayne! We have a potential gas leak.”“Where?”Dick looked at Tim, and the young man answered without hesitation:“Second holding bay. It looks… What could be the reason for that?”Or: An explosion hits and Dick is injured. As he struggles with a head injury, he is reminded of what brought them all together on this ship, the Dark Knight, in the first place.
Relationships: Batfamily Members & Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne
Series: Whumptober2020 [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948651
Comments: 42
Kudos: 159
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	1. The Beginning And The End

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> This is a SPACE AU!! And it is already completely written (ca.30k words), I just didn't want to hit you with a monster OS!  
> You will get the other chapters in the upcoming weeks! And I sure hope, you are going to enjoy the Found Family... and the SPACE ADVENTURES! 
> 
> EDIT 02/08/2021: The absolute amazing CK helped me beta this chapter, so now it should read like an actual story, and not just this mess!
> 
> Comments, Kudos, and Bookmarks really, really help me out and make me happy! <3<3<3
> 
> Additional Warnings in the End Notes.

The beginning of the end of the Dark Knight started with a small blinking light on the control board to his right. Normally, Dick wouldn’t even notice it. Normally,his duties did not take place close to the control panels at all, instead he usually stood next to the Captain.

But he’d been sick of standing next to Bruce. He knew his talents were best placed to be a Tactical Officer, however, Bruce preferred him act as this farce of a second in command. Dick knew what he could do, and how important he was on this ship… but he also knew that the title Second in Command meant very little on a ship with a crew as small as theirs.

So, he strode towards Tim, the actual Tactical Officer on their vessel – if such titles even applied to a misfit group of criminals like theirs.

Tim was busy doing advanced math in sync with the computer, guiding them through the galaxy, the slim young man focused on the task at hand. Before they’d got to know each other, Dick had feared that Tim would be a boring stickler for the rules. But that had only lasted until the first time they had spent off hours together in front of a holo-screen, watching intergalactic football together.

Dick liked Tim, the man – heck, Tim was eighteen, basically still a teenager – was somewhat of a little brother to him. But then again, most of the time Dick got along pretty well with every member of the crew.

Tim was fun and quirky, and an absolute beast when it came to the math needed to calculate course corrections and danger possibilities on the spot – he also had a soft spot for ancient Earth photography and analog pictures. And his football commentary was still the funniest thing Dick had ever heard.

Bruce was a bit of a stick in the mud sometimes, but Dick owed him his life and his future. So he wasn’t too irritated when Bruce overstepped the fragile boundaries between them. More often than not, Dick knew how to get absolutely  _ appropriate _ payback. It was their own little game of sorts, and Dick knew how to play it well.

Jason, their pilot, was an asshole, but Dick had spent one too many tavern fights happy to have Jason on his side, to dislike the man. They were rough with each other, Babs described their friendship as a beautiful example of unnecessary Earth virility contests, but Dick just thought they were fun – and it wasn’t as if Dick couldn’t hold an intelligent conversation with Jason either. The alien, a Horrk, was a literary geek and loved telling Dick how idiotic it was that Dick hadn’t read the Xarr’s classics yet.

Babs was… Babs was an A-I, but she was also so much more than that. When Bruce had bought the faulty A-I as a support system for his ship-- the Dark Knight-- she had still called herself O.R.A.C.L.E. – Organic Reactionary Artificial Logic E-System – but that had changed quickly over the years. Now she was Babs, the sassy, intelligent all-seeing eye, that kept them alive half the time.

There was Steph, their mechanic, who only ventured into the bridge on the rare occasion she wanted to get Bruce to give her a bigger budget for her…  _ tinkering workshop _ . But Bruce – and Dick, if he was being honest – were slightly afraid of yet another explosion coming from her private quarters. These meetings ended in yelling more often than not. Dick tended to make it up to her by paying her tab the next time they docked on a planet or a space station. She always agreed with a smile on her face.

Steph spent most of her time with Bruce’s son. Damian, a half-human half-Terrainian child, which Bruce had tried to leave on multiple space stations in an effort to protect him. They always found him stowed away after take off. At this point, Damian was as much a part of the crew as any of them, and Dick had grown fond of the small child. Dick was amazed by the boy and his ability to playfully transform his skin into different colors and patterns.

The last two members of their crew were probably the most elusive ones.

There was Al’fred, a Junkan military alien, who served as a cook and doctor to all of them, but had his loyalties sworn only to Bruce, and Cassandra, a human girl, Bruce had found on a slave planet a year ago.

She was… she was something else, and Dick couldn’t wait for a chance to get to know her. As of now she was mostly silent, her eyes almost as observant as Babs’s cameras. She was good with weapons, Dick was sure of that much, but her social skills were still in the making. But then again… Dick knew what it was like to grow up as a fighting machine owned by others.

Many of the people on this ship could, even if their stories differed.

But back to the light…

Dick spotted it, when he passed Tim, making his way towards Jason, who had the controls firmly in his four hands, but headphones covering his ear-slits. The Horrk apparently preferred audiobooks and analog media, since their eyes were too sensitive to be compatible with a holo-screen, at least for longer periods of time – on a ship with limited storage that usually meant audio books as a form of entertainment.

The light was inconsequential, Dick hadn’t used this station since Tim had joined the crew – he mostly noticed it because he couldn’t remember any blinking alerts on this side of the panel.

“Um… Drake? What does that light mean?”

Tim blinked up at him in confusion, something complicated happening on his face. At first Dick wasn’t too worried but then he saw how Tim paled.

“Drake? Tim? What’s…?”

“This is a… this is a control light meant to detect gas leaks. I… I didn’t even know we had primitive forms of petrol on this ship, why is it---?”

Dick could definitely understand Tim’s worry now; gas leaks could be a death sentence. Dick might not be overly educated in the great literature of the Xarr’s, but his mother had liked to tell him tales of the Human Core World.

One of them had been about something called a submarine, and from what Dick could remember they sounded faintly like their current spaceships, only it was water they traversed and not the Great Nothing. But Dick remembered these stories, and he remembered how a gas leak meant death – because down in the ocean or drifting through space there was nowhere you could escape to, if the spark flew and the ship blew.

Fire in space was beautiful, but that didn’t mean that Dick planned on dying that way.

Maybe that was why no one used petrol anymore to power their engines, solar power was the main source of power for their ship and most others. Which made it much more concerning, that their sensors had detected gas.

His voice was harsh and commanding, when he spoke next. His scar pulled taunt as he spoke:

“Captain Wayne! We have a potential gas leak.”

“Where?”

Dick looked at Tim, and the young man answered without hesitation:

“Second holding bay. It looks… What could be the reason for that?”

“ **Shit** ”

All of them looked up, when Babs’s voice echoed through the bridge, and Dick could feel the dread settle deep inside his bones. It was never good when Babs swore… no, it usually meant that they were fucked:

“ **One of the containers Al’fred bought on the last market stop on B’s orders didn’t pass the security readings, but Al’fred told me not to worry. I’m sorry… but** **_Con-Tai-Ning-Sec-Tion-Two-B-Zero-Five-Now._ ** ”

Dick could hear the telltale swoosh that signaled one of their doors being locked and sealed, and he let himself hope that this meant that everything would be okay. He looked up to search for Bruce’s eyes. The man was busy conducting an emergency message for the rest of the crew.

They were safer with all of them in one place.

Dick moved towards Bruce to ask him what he’d bought that had gotten them in so much trouble while they were in the midst of a deep space mission. He was midstep when the explosion hit. It was a silent bang, a pop that accompanied the horrid sensation of their ship depressurizing. There were no flames, at least none that Dick could see, but that didn’t mean that no damage had been done.

The entire ship shook, and Dick couldn’t help himself – he stumbled.

He was too slow… his hands couldn’t protect him from the sharp edge of the holo-screen base. His head connected with the base with a silent thump, and Dick couldn’t even draw in a breath, before unconsciousness claimed him. There was screaming. There was noise. There was pain.

There was darkness.

* * *

When Dick Grayson was nine, his entire world changed for the worse.

Before that fateful night, he had grown up in Haly’s Traveling Company deep, deep in space.

They were a traveling caravan. Dick never even had a home planet – he had a home ship. And he loved it. Zitka was the small vessel his entire family shared. His mom and dad, his aunts and uncles, and even his cousin. They did everything in Zitka: They worked, played, ate, and slept in her.

Since their business was the trade of things and secrets and favors – and sometimes they were simply trading their talent of unenhanced acrobatics for food – they traveled together with many other small ships like theirs.

It made it safer for all of them, since they were less likely to be detected when they entered territories that didn’t look kindly on the traveling space nomads.

If they had been bigger, and created for the wide openness of the Great Nothing, it would be easier to avoid detection. Nobody, not even the most advanced Terrainians or Xarr’s could find you if you were hidden and protected by the stars. But Zitka was a small vessel, and so were most others in their caravan – as it was, Traveling Companies mostly stuck to the core galaxies, where planets were just a small distance apart from each other, and they could regularly trade and restock.

But the need for food and security was also their downfall.

Dick hadn’t heard them coming.When the soldiers of the Court breached their ship security, even his childish belief in hope and good endings was tested. Because the Court was the enemy, and their soldiers, the emotionless Talons, were known for their lack of empathy. They were creepy – Dick had only seen them once, standing guard at a space station they had stopped at to restock, and their black uniforms and golden masks had soured his dreams for weeks after.

The Court was constantly creating alliances, forcing smaller moons and worlds to offer their loyalty to gain the protection of the Talons.Dick had heard his parents, his uncles and aunts argue about it often enough, to know that the Court didn’t look kindly on those they couldn’t control.

These had been the people his parents had been hiding from. When they finally came, Dick had no idea how they had been found or who had betrayed them. He simply knew that someone was hurting his family when he got dragged away from his cot and out into the open, by a hand clad in gold and black.

He only knew that suddenly, Dick Grayson didn’t belong to the Grayson family of the Haly Traveling Company anymore. His life had been claimed by those that called themselves the Court.

He only knew that he would never see his family again.

His biggest secret was that he still knew his name.

The Court and their relentless army training had done their best to beat every inch of individuality out of his body, instilling submissiveness in him instead. But Dick had rebelled – in a small way.

Even after… after a long, long time with the Court, Dick still knew that he was Dick, that his favorite color was blue, and that the ship he had grown up on had been the Zitka.

Eventually, this in-subordinance would be found out and Dick would be punished, maybe even killed, but until then he held onto the knowledge that he was more than just Talon17b.

He had finished his military training with flying colors, and they had accepted his request to train as a Tactical Officer for the space corps… but Dick knew that nothing could ever stay the same while you were a Talon, while you were fighting for the Court.

This was his third mission, his first deployment into deep space for longer than just a week or two, and he could feel the excitement thrumming inside of him. Leaving the compound facility behind always made him happy; and seeing the great expanses of the galaxy in front of him reminded him of things he should have forgotten.

Of course, he showed none of that on the outside. Talon’s were silent creatures, and until they earned a rank and a position of power through endurance and bravery, they weren’t allowed to have a title or a personality.

For the rest of the universe Dick was just Talon17b, a perfect little toy soldier, ready to follow the Court. And in a way… the Court had given him this life. Dick was… he was grateful for the opportunities he had been given; the things he had been allowed to learn. He had come to appreciate the direct orders – the only thing Dick had to do was be obedient, and everything else would be taken care of.

His heart might ache for the Zitka sometimes, but his mind knew that the Court had saved him, when they took him to train him to become something greater.

Being a Talon was an honor.

Dick would just have to keep his little secret until he was older and had a better standing. That wasn’t the Court’s fault – that was just life.

And they let him travel through space – Dick would forever be grateful for that.

“Talon17b – you are in the tactical course, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

His muscles tensed, and Dick could feel himself straighten as his commanding officer spoke to him directly. That was an honor – usually Talon’s of his rank weren’t recognized or remembered.

“Good. I want you to take a look at this.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dick stepped closer towards the holo-screen in front of his Captain’s seat, away from his place guarding the door to the bridge. He made sure to not let his eyes wander, his gaze never once landing on his Captain’s face.

“What do you see, Talon17b?”

“I see…” – Dick studied the map in front of him, watching the different markers symbolizing the fighting parties move across the space between two planets of medium size – “I see… a planetary conflict, in the Beta-Zero-Zero quadrant. We do not have troops there, the planets both belong to the Metropolis Alliance.”

Dick dared to glance into the direction of his commanding officer, fear making his skin tingle. He wasn’t sure what exactly they wanted from him – Dick was just a TO in training, the courses taking place over years once he had finished his basic training. Dick was a proud Talon, but he had not yet earned a title by any means.

His Captain was smiling, however, and his voice was smooth when he spoke next:

“How would you ensure our victory?”

“Um… I would…”

Dick was forced to swallow. It was illegal even for the Court to enter conflicts in other planetary systems without being invited first. But it was even worse to disobey a Captain. Dick couldn’t stay silent – he had to answer:

“I would swear my allegiance to the side with the most resources. From what I can remember Planet 7763, known as Star City, has Titanium mines. Those could be useful, especially when resources need to be traded and land can be annexed. Jump, Planet8998, has fewer natural occurring heavy metals the Court could use – I would… I would annihilate them. They cannot become an enemy to the Court if they no longer exist.”

“Very good, Talon17b, that is exactly what I thought. Return to duty immediately.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Dick bowed deeply before he scurried back to his post by the door. Nausea bubbled in his stomach. This was wrong – the Court was only allowed to enter foreign space if they were invited in. The Interplanar Space Accords (ISA) applied to everyone, and Dick knew that the Court had signed them as well.

But then again… he was just a Talon. It wasn’t a Talon’s job to question the decisions of his superiors. No, Talons weren’t supposed to question anything at all.

Dick returned to guard duty and tried to forget what he had just said – and what treacherous thoughts he had just had.

It was the fourth actual firefight in Talon17b’s short career. No, he was Dick. He was still Dick even if the gun in his hands felt more familiar than a trapeze bar. Dick found it harder to remember Zitka after a year on board of the Parliament, than it had been after nine years of basic, torturous military training.

He tried to stay strong. He tried to close his eyes when it got to be too much. He tried not to kill when nobody was looking.

Talon17b was grateful for everything the Court had given him, for their goodwill and their benevolence… but he hated being forced to kill. Dick was just not cut out for this. He was created for violence, his body moving better and smoother and more gracefully in combat than anyone else’s… it was the killing that hurt Dick’s soft heart every time he was forced to pull the trigger.

He was a failure as a Talon and when he saw the little girl be brought in front of the Captain of the Parliament, Dick knew… he knew he had lost.

He had hidden his traitorous thoughts and memories for ten years, and he had managed to stay on track for a promotion. He had managed to stay strong even during battle… but looking at her big black eyes, and the bright and young scales covering her body, Dick couldn’t take it. He couldn’t just watch as they killed her.

And they would kill her.

It was an act of war to disturb a Captain while they spoke, and Dick had seen her do just that by sneaking into their camp, searching for food. She had signed her own death warrant – Dick should just accept it.  _ She deserved it _ .

But… but she was so young, and Dick was just so sick of violence.

“Girl! You have made a mistake and you will pay with your life.”

His Captain’s voice was calm as he informed the Xarr’s girl of her imminent fate. And she answered in kind, her long, forked tongue wetting her eyes once, before she spoke:

“Kill me, you monster.”

She had guts – and Dick moved before his commanding officer could strike her. It was just the two of them in his Captain’s base, the rest of their troops out on the battlefield, dying for their cause. Dick was just here because his Captain liked him – and because the gash on his shoulder was still healing, after Dick had been hit by a laser blaster the day before.

He caught his Captain’s clawed hand, and he motioned towards the girl – she didn’t have to be told twice, darting out of the base faster than any human could move. It was her luck that she was Xarr’s, otherwise she would have met her end here, her own species betraying her.

Dick tore his gaze away from her disappearing form, to look at his commanding officer. Fury was written in those golden eyes, and he knew he had lost.

He was dead.

Some part of Dick had already accepted that.

It was too easy to sink down on his knees in submission. Easy to stay silent and small as the man who had taken him under his wing started to discipline him. It was easy to become the object they all saw him as.

Dick wasn’t surprised by the words that left his Captain’s mouth, even as bile rose in the back of his throat:

“You have disobeyed your Captain – that is an offence only punishable by death. And death you shall receive Talon17b. But I think the High Court wants to make an example of you – we do not need Talons who disobey. Let them see what happens to those that do.”

“Yes, sir.”

A hand pulled Dick’s protective gear away from his face, and suddenly fingers were twisting in his hair, forcing him to arch his back, and raise his face so he was looking into his commanding officer’s eyes. The man was smiling:

“But first, let me brand you as the traitor you are. We want everyone in the galaxy to know why you are dying, after all.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dick’s answer sounded strained, and Dick feared further punishment regarding his in-subordinance, but his Captain only laughed. His hand disappeared from Dick’s hair. Dick’s head fell back down, his eyes trained on his Captain’s boots.

“Wait here, Talon17b, while I get the branding kit together.”

And Dick did wait, his shoulders hunched, his knees firmly on the floor. He deserved this punishment, he deserved death.

He was just a Talon after all, and not even a good one at that.

* * *

Consciousness was a fickle thing. Dick could feel hands running through his hair, and he could hear the sweet whispers of his loved ones promising him salvation.

When he finally managed to blink his eyes open, the world in front of him was blurry. There was a persistent ringing in his ears, so loud that for a moment Dick feared he would only hear this noise until the end of time. But… after a few confused blinks did nothing to clear his vision, it became apparent that the ringing wasn’t so bad, not when Dick had other things to worry about.

Like the horrible headache making him feel woozy, or the fact that it was Jason who was cradling him against his broad and… honestly kind of cold chest.

“Jay?”

Dick was slurring his words, but the Horrk man didn’t seem to care, his grip on Dick tightening for a moment:

“You’re awake?  _ Thank Mice _ ! Hey! Captain! Captain Fuckface! Grayson is awake!”

The last part was yelled so loudly, Dick winced. The pain in his brain spiked whenever he moved, or thought or… anything, really. Jason’s focus returned to Dick, his hands moved carefully as they checked him for injury:

“How bad is that head of yours? I heard human skulls are weirdly fragile for something containing your central nervous system.”

“Blurry… everything blurry…. What happened?”

“Um… Captain Fuckface stored a bioweapon on the ship without telling anyone, and now we are going to die.”

“It is not a bioweapon. It is an Earth Artifact. I bought it from a trusted friend – how could I have known that Dent sold us out to the Core Marines?”

Suddenly, Bruce was next to Dick, and relief flooded his veins. As much as the two of them fought, giving Dick sometimes opposing Bruce only for the sake of giving contra, he… he liked the man. Bruce had saved Dick – from himself and from the enforcers of the Court.

It would always calm him down to see Bruce’ face, even if it was covered in tiny specks of blood like it was right now. Almost immediately after his brain registered what the blurry bits of red on Bruce’s face were, Dick tried to sit up, only to be stopped by two of Jason’s arms and the nausea bubbling in his stomach.

“Are you hurt, Captain?”

“Only small cuts… nothing major, Grayson. And lay back down – a head wound is nothing to ignore.”

“But-“

“Listen to Captain Fuckface, Dickie. We have everything under control. You can rest your thin, hairy skull on my legs, while the rest of us save this fucking ship.”

“How is the crew doing?”

Dick couldn’t help himself, he had to worry, even if his brain was apparently the only thing that had taken a hit. And okay, with the headache being as bad as it was, and the fact that focus was somewhat hard to get by, Dick could almost believe that it would be a good idea to stay down.

It was Bruce who answered, and not Jason, the Horrk returning his attention back to the small board computer attached to one of his wrists:

“Everyone made it to the bridge shortly after the initial blow. You were still unconscious, but Steph and Cass went to check the engine, and… Al’fred is taking care of Damian.”

“What happened?” Dick was trying to sit back up, but Bruce’s hand was firm when he pushed him back down.

“Stay down, Dick. Damian’s left leg broke when he fell down one of the security chutes. It is a bad, but not terrible, fracture, and Al’fred is doing his best to ensure-- it should… heal fine.”

Dick was about to open his mouth again, when Jason shifted underneath him. The man was very careful as he used his four arms to settle Dick in Bruce’s lap instead, something truly apologetic in his giant green eyes:

“Sorry, the girls need me downstairs. Captain? Look after your Second in Command, all of us can smell him better than you.”

“It is  _ like _ .”

“For you, maybe, but I can actually smell you, so…”

With that Jason was gone, and Dick was once again laying uselessly on the floor:

“Tim?”

“Tim is over there.” – Bruce motioned towards a corner of the bridge Dick couldn’t see without moving his neck, which sounded like a bad idea right now – “His wrist is sprained and he hit his head – but he is coherent and working with Babs to find out how this could have happened.”

For a moment the both of them were silent, Dick contemplating their chances and choices. The ringing in is ear did nothing to help him concentrate, and it didn’t take long before Dick could feel the dread -- that probably cursed through every member of their crew right now -- settle in his stomach as well:

“What are our chances?”

“Slim to none.”

“And the emergency pods? At least for the kids? Damian? Cass? Tim?”

“They never were repaired after Steph’s and Jason’s rat family nested in them and destroyed the electronics.”

“The distress beacon?”

“We are on the borders of known space… it is unlikely that anyone is going to hear us.”

“How long?”

“If nothing else blows? Three days.”

Silence fell over them once more, and Dick realized that maybe… maybe this was it. He was twenty-four, had survived countless horrors and tortures, had fought for his life and stayed strong in the face of animosity, had made irredeemable mistakes due to his youth and his idiocracy… Dick had lived. It would be okay to die.

“I am sorry.”

Bruce’s voice broke through Dick’s contemplations, and he couldn’t help himself, a noise of disbelief escaped him:

“Sorry for what?”

“I am the reason all of you are on this ship. I am the reason all of you are going to die.”

“Pah, you saved my life, Bruce…. I would have been tortured to death if it hadn’t been for you.”

“And yet it is my fault that you are here.”

“Do you remember the first thing I ever said to you?”

“Yes… it would be rather hard to forget.”

“I still mean that – I am here out of my own free will.”

The ship shook, and Dick closed his eyes as a wave of dizziness crashed over him. He let the memories wash him away, back towards a time that was… not simpler, but still somehow less complicated.

* * *

His fingers wanted to touch the holo-mask covering his face, but he knew it would make all his attempts to stay hidden worthless. If he touched the electronic button protecting his identity, the entire pub in this seedy part of the Gotham Space Docks would see him for what he was.

The moment they recognized the giant C burned into his left cheek, from the corner of his mouth up towards the arch of his eyebrow, they would know that he was easy prey.

Dick wasn’t Talon17b under the protection of the Court anymore. He was just Dick, a deserter of one of the most powerful armies in the galaxy. He… he didn’t even have human rights anymore under the ISA. He was just… they could kill him, buy him, use him… and if he was really unlucky, they would sell him back to the Court.

Sometimes it was still hard to believe that his entire world was simply gone like that.

He had been a faithful soldier for the Court for ten years, surviving the grueling basic training when he was nine where many others had died. He had graduated with honors when he was barely nineteen… and at almost twenty he had thrown his life away for the sake of one girl. A girl he didn’t even know.

Dick still believed in them, even when they'd burned and beaten and humiliated him… but during the transport to the High Court an opportunity for freedom had arisen. Dick was many things; a coward, a Talon, a soldier, a tool – but he was also a Grayson, and a Grayson never said  _ no _ to a chance of jumping out of a moving spaceship.

Ever since, he’d done his best to disappear, but the fear just wouldn’t leave him alone.

Odd jobs kept him afloat, but he knew the moment his secret was found out, he was dead. Or something worse that Dick didn’t even want to think about.

The pub was bustling with life. Apparently one of the patrons was a rich guy, buying everyone drinks and making sure that the mood was jovial and fun. Dick couldn’t care less, he needed to find someone in this writhing mess of tails, and claws, and human arms who was willing to pay him a few credits under the table, so Dick could get the projector hiding his scarred face repaired.

He was moving through the masses of moving bodies, when he heard a yell next to him. A Junkan man was roughly grabbed by the back of his neck fur by a big, burly human. Dick could feel his training kick in. The Junkan was clearly scared, and the human was an asshole, it was written all over his face.

“Hey! Stop it! He doesn’t want that!”

Nobody seemed to hear Dick.

Nobody had ever heard Talon17b either. Except for when they wanted to use him.

The human didn’t stop, instead he seemed to fasten his grip on the poor Junkan’s fur. Dick… Dick had never been good at looking away, it had been his demise when he was still a part of the Court, and it would be his demise just now.

His fists were faster than people were used to from a human, especially one dressed as plainly as Dick was. And yet… his left hand connected with the man’s cheek, sending him stumbling backwards. Dick’s leg came up to knee him in the groin.

In a matter of mere seconds, the man was groaning in pain on the dirty floor, and Dick was grinning, his hand wiping away the sweat collecting on his forehead. The other patrons cheered when they noticed what had happened – nobody liked an asshole.

It was disgustingly warm in the pub. Dick’s sleeve felt damp as it came away from his skin.

He realized his mistake the moment the Junkan’s thankful expression morphed into something disgusted. The moment the cheering crowd grew silent, and a different kind of excitement electrified the air. They had spotted easy prey – Dick might be a better fighter than every single person in this room, but not even his training couldsave him from the onslaught of people united under the single goal of hurting him.

He did the only thing he could do.

He ran.

His fingers were fumbling with the dials of his holo-projector, his heart beating fast inside his chest. This was bad. Really, really bad.

He pushed past people, ripped his arms away from claws and steel and flesh trying to grab onto him. He needed to get out, he needed to escape. He had a single goal – and it was a worthy one. His entire future depended on it. He had to reach the door!

And against all odds, Dick managed to do it. He reached the open streets. They were rather empty for Gotham Docks. But ever since the threats of war hung over the unaffiliated space station not even partying was that much fun anymore. It made finding a job harder, but today Dick was rather grateful for it.

Dick made it three streets and two alleys away, before his jacket was grabbed from behind. He flung himself in the opposite direction, turning around with a twist, one of his hands frantically searching for his knife, when the voice registered:

“Stop. I need you to stop.”

Dick hated himself when his body followed the command. He had done his best to get his Captain’s voice out of his head, and he had trained a sense of self back into himself… but one tall man with an authoritative voice and Dick was Talon17b again.

He fucking hated it.

“I am not going to hurt you.”

Dick scoffed but stayed silent otherwise. There was no need to make this any worse than it already was. He could withstand a beating for in-subordinance, he just had to make sure he was ready to run, when the man decided to turn him over to the Court.

Now that he was standing still, forcing himself to draw in one breath after the other, Dick saw his captor for the first time. The man was a giant, almost a foot taller than Dick, with an expensive titanium woven suit covering his large frame. It was an imposing sight – Dick really didn’t like this.

“I… sorry, for the way I talked to you” – the stranger raised his hands in mock surrender - “I just needed to talk to you.”

Suddenly it clicked – the man in front of him had been the rich patron in the bar, and he was… he was Bruce Wayne, the benefactor of Gotham Docks. This man was the only reason Gotham was still free and unclaimed in a time in which the space alliances grew stronger and stronger, with tensions rising high.

Bruce Wayne must have seen the realization hit Dick, the smile on the man’s face was rueful as he continued:

“I… I can help you. It is dangerous out there for… for people like you.”

Dick scoffed again.

“And… I am forming a space crew, that’s why I was in that pub… and I could use someone like you on my team.”

“You can’t buy my loyalty. You might be able to buy me – but you can’t buy anything else.”

Dick’s voice was heavy with defiance, and he almost expected a backhand, or a kick in the stomach. Neither came. Instead, Bruce Wayne took a step back, worry evident on his face:

“What do you mean? I would pay you fair and square, of course.”

“I… I… am Talon17b, and under the ISA I have no personhood until I am indentured or brought back to my previous owners. And even then, only if they grant it – so, no, you wouldn’t pay me. You would pay  _ for  _ me.”

Dick could see from the shock in Bruce Wayne’s face and the way the man had paled, that he hadn’t known that. Not many people knew all the facts when it came to… to stolen children.

Dick had tried finding his parents again, when he first ran away after his branding. He had known it would be hopeless, but it had still hurt to find out that the entirety of the Haly Traveling Company had been destroyed and dismantled, not even one person surviving the attack – except for the children, of course.

Dick had become a Talon alongside Raya and Peter… though before long one of them had been killed and the other had become Talon92b, just an emotionless face under many. Dick had given up being Dick for some time as well – and still, Talon17b felt much more familiar than Dick Grayson did on some days.

“I… I am sorry. I didn’t know that. I knew that the Court was… relentless when it came to deserters. I am sorry to hear that…”

“You are sorry to hear  _ what _ ? That they take everything away? Or that they get the children they know nobody would miss? That this fucked up space system supports their claims on a person’s life? On their rights?”

Just a month ago Dick would never have been able to talk about the Court like this. There was still unease making him stand straight and tense, and worry deep in his bones – but it was right. The Court was just the symptom of a larger problem. There were accords in place that allowed other planets and alliances to continue what the Court was already doing.

What really hurt was that nobody knew about it.

The rich didn’t have to know where their young maids came from, and the middle class didn’t care that soldiers were appearing out of thin air – only the poor, the travelers, the miners… they were the ones losing their children and their lives for the system.

_ Dick had only tried to save that girl’s life. _

“How do I buy you?”

“What?”

“I… this sounds horrible, but… I want to make sure you are safe. I couldn’t live with myself if I just left you here and you got hunted down by someone else who wanted to hurt you. So… if…  _ oh my _ … if I bought the rights to your person, I could just… I could just let you go, right?”

“After some time… probably, yeah, but why would you do that?”

Bruce Wayne’s face was grim, something unforgiving in the expression of a man Dick had always thought was a bit of a dizz:

“Just the thought of owning another person makes me sick to my stomach, Talon17b. But I have realized that the system was broken long ago… this crew of mine? This is my attempt to change something. To make a difference.”

Dick worried. He sucked his lip between his teeth, waging his options. On the one hand this Bruce Wayne guy seemed honest, but Dick had only met him a couple of minutes ago. On the other hand? What choice did he have? Either Wayne bought him anyways or some other dude who had seen him fight in the pub would do it.

“What would you have hired me to do?”

“I need a guard for my ship, and a TO.”

“Well, then you’re lucky…” – Dick wasn’t sure if he was making the right choice, but at least it felt as if he was doing something – “because Talon17b, also called Dick Grayson, did in fact complete part of Tactical Officer training.”

“Great!”

Now Wayne was smiling, and Dick thought he might even find it in himself to like the guy. Wayne looked elated, before he seemed to remember their earlier conversation, something hard returning to his gaze:

“Ta- Dick, you said?”

Dick nodded.

“Dick, I want you to know that you can leave whenever you want. I will pay you like everyone else I’ll hire, and my only power over you is as your boss – not as your owner. If you leave, I will do my best to ensure your safety and integrity.”

“Thank you.”

“And now tell me how to buy you?”

And Dick did. It felt weird, to give his own life into someone else’s hands again, while simultaneously doing something just for himself. Dick trusted Wayne with his life, rather against his will, and he was ready to find out if he could trust him with everything else as well.

It was a dangerous gamble.

It was one Dick could very well regret, his own life was on the line after all.

But Dick Grayson had been Talon17b for so long… he wanted to live a little. He wanted to stop running.

“Mr. Wayne… how many people are in your crew yet?”

“Bruce, really.”

“Mr. Wayne.”

“Um… As of now, it is you, me, and my faithful friend Al’fred. He is quite the cook.”

Dick couldn’t help himself – he laughed. 


	2. First Steps and Last Breaths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the age of twenty-one Dick meets Jason.   
> In the present things are getting... at least not worse?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um... Hello? Welcome back? This story still exists?  
> I promise the next few chapters won't take 4 months! I PROMISE!!!  
> Special shout-out to Neptance for helping me beta this story!!

The first six months of working with Wayne were… touch and go. Dick almost walked away the first time he saw the trash pile Wayne called their ship, and he almost cried when he saw the third member of this “space mission”. It was a Junkan so old, his fur was already mostly grey.

Then Dick watched as Al’fred dismantled a Gotham Jacker with two uses of his laser beam, cutting the beast into eatable steaks in another five, and quickly realized that the old man was many things but helpless was not one of them.

They didn’t get off the ground for what felt like ages. The wristband declaring Dick’s rightful owner as Bruce Wayne was still uncomfortable where it touched his skin. But at least it wasn’t a collar, at least it wasn’t another branding. There was no longer a need for a projector to hide the left side of his face, but… it was hard to grow comfortable with a part of yourself when everyone was always staring at it.

Some days were easier than others, especially when they finally managed to get off the ground and leave Gotham Docks behind. Wayne stood by his promise: He never ordered Dick to do something outside of his official working hours, and even then, those commands were often phrased as ideas or offers or requests.

Wayne… he never overstepped, he never claimed Dick as his. He always called him by his name instead of his number. Al’fred respected him as well. The one time he tried to help with the cooking, the Junkan sent Dick out of the kitchen, gently telling him that it wasn’t his job.

But the more comfortable Dick grew around Wayne and Al’fred, the more he trusted them not to turn around and sell him, the worse his nightmares got.

Dreams of the night he was taken.

Dreams of the first years of training, when the new recruits got punished whenever they referenced their lives before the Court.

Dreams about his betrayal – and the pain that followed.

Dick felt stretched thin. It didn’t matter that Al’fred was smiling, when he mixed him glowing juices that were supposed to help sooth his spirit, or when Wayne said that it was only normal – trauma worked in mysterious ways.

It certainly didn’t help that the three of them were far too few people for a ship as big as theirs, and Dick could see that Bruce was running on empty in his attempts to find them a mechanic and a pilot. They could really only start their mission if they had those – their attempts would be worthless without people on board to ensure that they would reach the other end of the galaxy in one piece.

That’s what brought them to Narrow, a broken down and rat-infested space station, close enough to Gotham to still claim its protection, but far enough away to be effectively lawless.

Bruce had high hopes for this place – Dick was just happy to be in an open space again.

He had never felt claustrophobic in a spaceship before, but the months spent together with only two other people, plagued by the horrors of his past, had made Dick appreciate the vastness of a space station. The anonymity of it.

His steps were light when he left the gangway, he was almost dancing when he reached the market, Bruce’s voice barely discernible behind him:

“Don’t get kidnapped. And meet us back here at 1900… and have fun!”

Dick couldn’t bring himself to tell Wayne that he sounded like a worried parent, the faces of his own mom and dad more vivid those past few months than they had been for years. He didn’t want to face the complicated emotions bubbling inside of him whenever Bruce was nice to him.

He probably only liked the man because he had been the first one to treat Dick like a person in literal years.

But today wasn’t about Wayne… today was about the fact that Dick had nine hours just for himself. And he used them. His paycheck was accessible via his wristband, and Dick enjoyed… Dick enjoyed discovering the trade.

Yes, the Narrow was dirtier, and more crime ridden than most space stations Dick had ever set foot on, but Dick was also a trained killer. He didn’t have to fear for himself, and with the holo-projector ready and working properly, he didn’t even have to worry about the stares.

There were still odd looks when people noticed the indentured sign on his wrist, but nobody denied him access to their goods.

Dick tried milkshakes from Apoleptian Cows, and bought a bright blue shirt made out of holographic disks that reflected the artificial lighting. He spent his hours well, testing everything he could find, enjoying the bustling of the crowd – for a few precious hours he was just a nameless tourist.

It was a role he liked.

It was almost time for them to meet again, when Dick entered a seedy bar – but then again, everything in Narrow was dirty and shady and weirdly gray colored. He was hungry – hungry for Core Human World food. The Court usually served nutritional slurries, and Al’fred favored the cuisine of the Xarr’s and Junkan’s over the food Dick remembered from his childhood.

This place looked like it might offer just that, the owner a broad human woman with a sly smile on her lips. Her smile turned into a grin, when she saw that Dick had entered:

“How can I help you, my dear?”

“Do you… do you serve traditional Core Human World food here?”

“Sure do, hon. Take a seat and I’ll make a drone take your order in a minute.”

Dick complied, his eyes checking every corner of the small bar. He was the only one in the room besides the owner, and as she promised, moments after he had taken a seat at a strategically intelligent place, a drone flew by, the menu ready.

Dick ordered – something called a Berliner, a sweet bun, that reminded him of something his mom made – and watched and waited.

Sometimes it hit him what a privilege this was – and what a wrong thought this was considering the fact that he was someone else’s property. But Dick knew he would never be free in the star system the Court and its enemies were currently creating, not after what they had been done to him and countless others… so maybe it wasn’t wrong to allow himself this small piece of happiness.

Maybe it was okay to allow himself the sweet mess of the Berliner, jam dripping down his hands, warm dough melting in his mouth.

This was so much better than any nutritional slurry could ever hope to be.

His eyes were closed in bliss, when the doors to the bar opened with a swish, a tall angry human man storming inside. The man had someone else in his grasp, and it took Dick a moment to realize that the fighting and cursing ball of anger was a young Horrk teenager. His black and white scales were covered by cargo pants and a hoodie – both made for humans, evident by the fact that two extra arm holes had been cut into the shirt – and Dick was surprised when the illuminating green eyes focused on him, instead of looking right through him.

It was still extremely weird to be seen.

“Berta! What the hell? You hired this punk to fly the ship? What’s with my contract?”

The angry man was yelling at the woman, who had greeted Dick with such honest joy. Dick didn’t like it. He really, really didn’t like it. He was watching with rapt attention, as Berta looked from the man, to the struggling Horrk, and back to the man:

“Jason flies faster and better than you – and he wants half the money. Let the boy go, Jon.”

“Fucking Aliens!”

With these words Jon threw Jason onto the floor, before turning around and walking towards the door. Berta had an angry twist to her lips when she yelled:

“And don’t come back!”

She left the bar counter behind, as soon as the doors had closed again, kneeling down next to Jason who was rubbing one of his four wrists.

“Everything alright, hon?”

“Yeah, sure, I just… I might no longer be able to fly for you Berta… Jon made sure the other workers aren’t any happier to see my face right now.”

“Oh, my dear…”

“Would you be interested in flying deep space missions? Can you do that?”

Dick had left his table behind before he could talk himself out of it. He was standing in front of Berta and Jason, both of them still kneeling on the floor when he made his offer. They hadn’t noticed him move, which explained the confusion on their faces as they looked up to him.

“What?” said Jason, while Berta’s eyebrow rose.

“My Captain… he is in need of a pilot for his deep space mission. The pay is good, and the crew is nice.”

He didn’t have to tell Jason that the crew were literally three people. That information was for after. After Dick had secured a new pilot for his Captain. After Dick was successful in this mission that he hadn’t known he was on.

“And what do you care?”

Jason sounded aggressive, even as he moved gently when he stood up and helped Berta back up. At full height, Dick was smaller than Jason, even if it was clear as day that Jason hadn’t stopped growing yet. He really was a young Horrk.

“I kind of want to get our mission going as well. As his TO I have interest in our success as well.”

“TO, my ass. As his toy, you mean?”

Dick was fast – as fast as a human could be – but Jason was faster, at least this once. One of his clawed hands grabbed Dick’s arm, pulling it upwards. The wristband declaring him indentured seemed ugly and bright in the dim light of the bar.

But Dick… he hadn’t fought for himself again and again just to let a kid push him around. He twisted behind the Horrk quicker than the teenager could react, making him trip. Before Jason could blink, both of them were back on the floor – only this time Dick was sitting on Jason’s back.

“I am Dick Grayson. I am no one’s property. My captain did buy my services to help me – and he can help you get a job as well if you decide to be less of an asshole about it.”

Dick had never felt so strong, as he did just now, telling the world who he was – maybe for the first time in forever.

Berta seemed to watch the whole thing with a slight smile on her face, ignoring Jason’s curses of protest. Instead, she addressed Dick:

“I would be grateful as hell if you could get Jason here some honest work. Especially well-paying one. He has done every odd job someone was willing to pay him for since his parents left him here seven years ago.”

“Traded.” Jason’s muffled voice sounded from underneath Dick’s feet.

“What?”

“My dad traded me for a crate of Eleek Elixir.”

Dick felt something besides his slight irritation at Jason settle inside him. Resolve. Jason sounded like exactly the kind of person Bruce would want to navigate his ship.

He was cautious when he climbed off Jason’s back, his hand with the wristband offered out of his own free will. Jason took it, and let Dick help him up again.

It was Dick who broke the silence that had fallen over them first:

“I meant it. My Captain would be happy to have someone like you on our vessel.”

Jason looked contemplative… and then:

“Okay… lead the way.”

And Dick did. He paid Berta, and watched as Jason packed two bags, neither of them full. He didn’t know what made him sadder: The fact that Jason had so little to take with him or that Dick joined Bruce with just the clothes on his back and nothing else.

For a bit they were walking in silence, Jason’s eyes following Dick’s every move. And Dick let him – he knew how scary this was, he knew what a risk Jason had just taken. It didn’t matter that everything would turn out alright, it didn’t matter that Jason would be welcomed on board – it was scary walking into the unknown.

It was Jason who turned towards Dick:

“So, what can you tell me about this gig? I am ready to run away at the first sign that you are creepers.”

“My captain has a small vessel, big enough for long-term space travel and a crew of twelve – we need a pilot, our first goal is Krypton on the other side of the milky way.”

“That’s quite the distance. At least six months one way.”

“We know – which is why we need you.”

Silence… again, and then:

“And how did you end up on the ship?”

“He offered me a job as his guard, it’s as simple as that.”

Both of them knew it wasn’t that simple, both of them were aware of the wristband Dick wore. And yet, Jason seemed to relax, maybe even enough for Dick to ask a question of his own:

“How old are you?”

“Eighteen as of tomorrow.”

They reached the docks at 1912 o’clock and Dick could see Wayne worry from their place a few hundred yards away. He motioned for Jason to move, before he pointed towards Wayne – who had now spotted Dick, coming his way with fast steps.

Dick did his best to swallow the fear down. Maybe Bruce wasn’t as… no, it wasn’t anger hidden in Bruce’s large frame, it was worry.

Jason swore next to him:

“Fuck… that is Bruce Wayne. You didn’t say Bruce Wayne is the one who wants to hire me… Shit…”

Bruce came to a stop in front of them, and Dick took a deep breath straightening up:

“I am sorry for my in-subordinance, but I might have found us a pilot, Captain.”

Immediately Bruce’s gaze focused on Jason, a strained smile on his thin lips:

“And you are, young man?”

“Jason T’odd… Pilot, street kid, bargaining chip. Try anything and I will chop your hands off.”

Now Bruce was grinning for real. Dick knew it – Bruce would love Jason.

He offered Jason his hand:

“Bruce Wayne, nice to meet you. Can I interest you in a position as the pilot of the Dark Knight? The pay is 900 credits a month, and you get private quarters, meals, and health insurance.”

“You are not selling me to slavers are you.”

“I am on a quest to destroy every system in this galaxy that allows slavery, so no… I will not sell you.”

“Deal, old man.”

Their hands met, and Dick knew he had done the right thing. There was a warm and good feeling in his chest at the thought that maybe… maybe he and Jason could be friends. Dick hadn’t had a friend since Raya died.

Bruce was still smiling when he said:

“That is Captain to you, at least during working hours.”

“Aye, aye, Captain Fuckface, I am ready to board.”

They were turning towards the ship, Dick elated by the fact how smooth this had worked out, when Bruce touched his shoulder. Dick didn’t quite manage to hide his flinch, but he turned around nevertheless:

“Yes.”

“I am glad that you are okay… Oh! And I found an A-I. They called it O.R.A.C.L.E. and it was a bargain since it’s not tied to any intergalactic tech company. It might be a bit old, but I am sure it will help you calculate your numbers while we’re in space…”

Bruce was rambling, happy that their mission was finally beginning… they would have to find a mechanic soon, but Dick was sure that it would work out just fine. They had survived Gotham Docks and now they finally had a pilot – nothing could stop them anymore.

Dick was almost… he was almost relaxed when he entered the Dark Knight following after Bruce. Maybe he had made the right choice after all when he trusted Bruce.

* * *

“I am still surprised you managed to get Jason to join our crew.”

Bruce sounded amused from his spot above Dick’s head, as if he was trying very hard to stay positive.

“I told him he could be mean to a rich guy and he immediately agreed.” Dick joked back.

The ringing in his ears hadn’t stopped yet, Bruce’s face swimming in and out of focus like a drunk cybershark. Dick wanted to close his eyes and vanish into the depths of his mind which were untouched by the knowledge that they were all going to die.

But he knew he couldn’t do that – the ship needed him.

Bruce was their Captain, he couldn’t waste his time kneeling above Dick, telling him sweet stories about their time together – Bruce’s job was to keep this ship running. And Dick’s job was to ensure that Bruce did what he was supposed to do.

It hurt when he pushed himself upwards, the bridge spinning even worse from the movement than it was doing on its own. Oh, how Dick hated concussions. They had always been a pain in the ass, especially since the training officers in the Talon camps had forced them to fight through them.

This time it was circumstance that would force Dick to push through his discomfort, and not the mean hand of an evil man.

“Dick… lay back down! We have everything under control.”

“ **Captain, I am sorry to say that we do not have everything under control.** ”

Usually Babs’s voice would be humorous during a message like that, but right now the echo of the broken microphone made her sound cold and urgent.

Dick took that as all the confirmation he needed, pulling himself into a standing position, using Bruce’s shoulder as a way to stabilize himself. The man in question only watched, still positioned on the floor. Guilt had never suited Bruce.

The world was swaying around Dick, and his head was pulsing with sound and pain and fear… but Dick forced himself to take a few deep breaths, before he offered Bruce his hand. But the Captain denied, struggling upwards on his own:

“No offence, but none of us profit if I just pull you back down with me.”

With both of them standing, Dick took in the sight of the bridge in front of him. Tim was still seated on the same spot he’d been at earlier, but Dick could see his relieved smile when he noticed Dick standing on his own again. On the other side of the room Damian was sitting in front of Al’fred, the Junkan busy making sure that Damian wasn’t hurt too badly.

Damian’s rather unique physique made it hard for his bones to heal should they break, and it required him to stick to a strict dietary plan at any given point – but most of the time outside of injury his alien biology allowed for Damian to photosynthesize and create colorful lights.

The Half-Terrainian child wasn’t crying – Damian rarely allowed himself such a show of emotion, but the flickers of red dancing over his cheeks and down his neck told Dick and the world just how scared he really was.

Al’fred next to him looked… almost calm, but then again, the old Junkan had never really found it in himself to show how scared he was in any given situation. Al’fred made sure they were fed and healthy – he had survived too much to heal them emotionally as well, even if he occasionally tried.

The hull of the ship was intact from what Dick could see, but then again, his vision was still swimming in and out of focus, bursts of light making it hard to concentrate. It would be hard to see small leaks in the hull even if his head hadn’t made contact with Bruce’s holo-screen base.

When Dick turned to address Babs, Bruce had already left him, squeezing his shoulder one last time before he went to check on Damian. Dick was proud – what a weird emotion to have about his boss – since Bruce had probably been the last one on board of the Dark Knight who bonded with Damian. 

“What’s the damage, Babs?”

“ **The bomb smuggled in B’s artefact container destroyed holding bay two completely and breeched a hole into our lower hull. We lost 70% of our food supplies, 40% of the stored oxygen, and all our currently unused solar panels. The shock of the explosion fried a circuit in the cooling system of the engine, and our oxygen regeneration system is broken** .”

“Where is everyone?”

Nobody had to know that Dick was using Bruce’s chair to keep himself upright, or that the room just wouldn’t stop spinning. Nausea sat heavy in his stomach, the floor beneath his feet lurching and dancing and never staying still.

It was alright as long as Dick could listen to Babs and assess the situation:

“ **Well, the five of you are here, and Stephanie and Jason are currently checking the engine. If they can manage to circumvent the broken panel, we might have a chance…. Cassandra is in the inside hull of the ship, tickling my systems as she searches for the broken part of the oxygen tank.** ”

“What else is there to do?”

“ **For you? Nothing, Boy Wonder. Please take a seat and let me handle the heavy lifting. Captain on the other hand? Captain could go and give me access to all survival systems this ship has, so I can keep us alive for longer.** ”

Babs didn’t have different tones or ways to bend her voice, the speech program installed in her hardware a rather simple one, and yet she always managed to sound mocking or funny or stressed when she wanted to – right now she was strict, and Dick could feel his knees give, his ass sinking onto the too comfortable Captain’s chair.

Fucking Talon conditioning – not that the remains of those horror filled years still bothered Dick too much. He just had to fight a bit harder than others to disobey a direct order when it came out of nowhere and he had no time to prepare. But Dick was nothing if not resilient.

After years aboard this ship he was almost proud of the wristband showing the world his loyalties. Dick knew he could only have these feelings because, well, the wristband was an option. Dick could leave should he want to – and until then the pay was good, and the company was even better.

If they survived this.

“And Tim?”

“ **Working together with me to ensure that the crew can continue to breathe oxygen, even if this ship doesn’t want you to – Oh, and sending distress signals on every known wavelength** .”

It was a risky move – there were people out there who would do worse than just kill them, should they be the ones to stumble upon the Dark Knight. But Dick knew that Babs was right: it was better to get a chance to fight, than to inevitably die.

Dick watched as Bruce crossed over to the main panels, giving Babs the codes she had requested, and he watched as Al’fred moved on from Damian to him, the hands of the cook surprisingly soft for someone who had carried guns and violence for longer than Dick had been alive.

“Hi Al’fred.”

“Dick.”

“Do you… do you still remember the day we found Tim and Steph?”

“How could I forget? You and Jason were screaming the entire day before…”

It was nice to make people smile, Dick had found, as he watched the ship doctor clean the wound on top of his skull, with a smile that revealed his canines on his lips.

“Have I ever told you why Jason and I were so loud?”

“I don’t think so, no…”

And with that Dick launched into the story. It was a simple effort to keep on smiling. To keep on being hopeful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love hearing your thoughts and ideas! <3<3<3


	3. Loud Voices and Silent Screams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life on board of the Dark Knight changed after Jason joined their crew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome back to the SPAUCE!!  
> This time it didn't take me 4 months to update 😅  
> All the thanks to CKBookish for being an AMAZING beta reader, and I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!
> 
> Warning: Past Abuse, Dealing With The Aftermath of Trauma, Concussions, Explosions

Fuck.

Shit.

_ Fuck _ .

Dick was done for. His existence had outlived its usefulness, nobody would want him anymore – no, the Court would still want him, and they would kill him brutally and without regret. And all of that because of a stupid, dumb,  _ idiotic _ fight!

Dick had been doing so well! He had it great!

Fuck, Dick had had it all! He was the Tactical Officer on the ship of a rich guy (even if the title meant very little considering their crew was made up out of four people and an A-I) and he had money, a room, security, and relative freedom.

It was so dumb… Why had he said no when Bruce asked him to stay back on their ship? Why had he gotten into a fight with the Talon officer he’d seen in the Infinity Harbor pub? Why… Why had he yelled at Bruce when Bruce dragged him back on board?

He had just ruined his future.  _ Again _ .

Bruce would sell him to the Court now, or he would just leave him to die on the next planet they stopped at,and Dick would deserve it! After what he had done… Bruce had every right to punish him. They were still searching for a mechanic after all, Bruce could surely find a new TO as well.

He ran his hands through his hair, grabbing fistfuls and just pulling, desperate for some sort of relief. His chamber was stifling with no place to run, and Dick was just so… he felt so caged.

It was only a matterof time before Dick did something dumb, something dangerous, and he really wished it hadn’t happened like this.

The feeling of Talons watching him and the ship wherever they went had grown stronger over the last four months, ever since they had hired Jason and found O.R.A.C.L.E.

The sleepless nights made him jumpy, and the feeling of breathlessness made him snappy. It was…  _ horrible _ . His commanding officers in the Talon army would have never allowed such in-subordinance, Talon17b would have been punished before he even managed to add “sir” to his bitchy answer. But no… Bruce had stayed consistently nice, and Dick found himself… pushing harder and further.

They had known each other for ten months now, and Dick had grown comfortably… until they returned to the ship, Dick yelling something about Talons - after getting into a fight with one - and how Bruce had no right to just stop him… and then Bruce had yelled back.

And every part of Dick had just stopped. He had… he folded in on himself, vanished into his room as fast as possible. He was still in there – pacing and panicking and freaking out.

He had managed to make Bruce mad, he had done the unimaginable, and now Dick would have to pay the price… Dick would lose the closest thing he had to a home once more.

His eyes wandered over the assorted pieces of memorabilia Dick had collected over the last ten months. The glittery shirt, the Xarr’s Bttt board, the collection of Lqiuan Superhero figurines, the Core Human World books… These all were things Dick hadn’t even allowed himself to dream about owning even a year ago.

A year ago, he barely had a name – and now he had given it all up because he’d been angry… and the Talon soldier had recognized the scar burned into his face. Dick knew he should have continued to wear the projector.

The knock on his door came to no surprise, Dick would have just asked for more time.

“You can open the door. I know it was out of turn to speak to you like that, and I accept every punishment you offer. Please-“

It wasn’t Bruce, who stood in the doorway – it was Jason.

The Horrk had grown almost an entire foot in height since he boarded the ship, and Dick had to crane his neck back, to see the slightly amused look on Jason’s face.

“I mean, I won’t say that you didn’t fuck up, because, man, you did, but let me tell you something else as well: the old man won’t punish you for it.”

“And how do you know? How do you know that he won’t just sell me? Or leave me behind? Or offer me to the authorities?”

“Because… he’s an asshat sometimes, but he honestly believes that no sentient being in this galaxy should be enslaved – and that includes you. I even have the slight suspicion that it was you who sent Bruce down this specific righteous path.”

Jason sounded so… earnest. Dick had no idea what to do with that, the emotions inside of him still burned bright.  He was no longer the scared Talon who carried out every order. Yet, every time he would fight or question Bruce, filled him with a sense of dread that was unimaginable.

His turmoil must have been quite visible, because Jason spotted it, before he stepped inside Dick’s cluttered kingdom:

“You need to learn how to fight.”

“I know how to fight.”

Some would even argue that fighting was the only thing Dick was good at. It wasn’t true – but it also wasn’t an unfounded assumption. Dick excelled at violence.

“I don’t mean physical fighting… I mean verbal fighting.  _ This _ ” - Jason gestured towards the rest of the ship, the crew - “doesn’t work when you’re too scared of Bruce being mad at you, to truly do what you think is right.”

“But fighting like that only gets you killed.”

“Wrong. On the streets fighting with your words to push someone away, saves your ass half the time. Fists are a last resort – first you fight with your tongue.”

Dick didn’t really understand what Jason was telling him, but he knew he had to make sure that he had understood at least one thing correctly:

“And you are sure Bruce isn’t going to… to hurt me for this?”

“Ah, Grayson, sometimes you are painfully fucked up, but, no, the old man won’t punish you. He might try to talk to you about your emotions and it will be super embarrassing for the both of you… but no punishments.”

Dick mulled that over for a couple of seconds, going through all the possible ways of how this could go wrong, before he addressed Jason again:

“Can you teach me how to fight?”

The Horrk was grinning, all three rows of razor sharp teeth visible:

“I’d thought you’d never ask.”

“You absolute fucking moron! That’s not how you fly a ship – an old ant from Makaka could fly this better!”

“Well, if this ship wasn’t a trash bin with electro repulsors, maybe I could fly it – but as it is, be grateful that I don’t stick this wrench up your fragile human butt!”

“Absolute bastard lizard!”

“You take that back!”

Dick found that mindlessly yelling at someone without fearing the consequences was actually kind of fun. He and Jason had been screaming at each other for hours now, the ship set on a pre-programmed frequent travel route, as Bruce returned to known space in a last attempt to find a mechanic before they made their way through the Great Nothing.

Dick still hadn’t talked to his Captain, not about the fight, nor about the intense stress his nightmares put him under. He wasn’t ready to breach the subject yet – and it was way more fun to learn how to fight with Jason than to face the man who had his life in his hands.

Jason was in the middle of drawing in another deep breath to start his tirade, when the board alarm blared. Immediately both of them snapped to attention, Dick’s muscles tensed. The man next to him was more relaxed, but his focus was just as sharp.

They didn’t have to talk, their eyes met exactly once before they both turned towards the bridge. Bruce was waiting for them, Al’fred by his side. They were both staring at a transmission displayed on the holo-screen, and Dick could feel his stomach tighten before he saw what was written on there.

It was the logo of The Court displayed in the air. Dick would recognize it anywhere.

When he stepped closer, he could read the words written on there as well – they didn’t help one bit considering the panic freezing the air inside his lungs. A Court mandated transport ship demanded support and help from the Dark Knight as the closest vessel by a thousand knots per quantas.

They were in a part of the galaxy that officially belonged to the Court, if they didn’t help they would be asked questions – questions, Dick feared they didn’t have an answer to.

It didn’t matter that the other three occupants of the room looked at Dick as if he was already dead, it didn’t matter that their pity made his blood boil… Dick’s voice was even, when he said:

“We’ll help them.”

Nobody dared to object, even if Bruce looked like he wanted to. But it seemed as if their previous fight didn’t just weigh heavily on Dick’s shoulders – Bruce carried it with him as well.

Dick wasn’t really sure if that was a good thing or not.

“Okay… T’odd, get the engines ready, Grayson on the TO station and give me the readouts. Al’fred, stay ready – O.R.A.C.L.E. estimated arrival time?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Of course, Captain.”

“Sure, Master Bruce.”

“ **Captain, the estimated arrival time is one-hundred and twelve Earth minutes.** ”

Dick focused on the numbers in front of him, calculating trajectory and engine power, as Jason switched the extra solar panels on the sides of the Dark Knight from stand-by mode to ready. Bruce sounded like a true captain, like the ones in the series Dick’s mom liked to watch on the holo-screen when he was younger, when he spoke next:

“Get ready – and _thrust_.”

The Court’s transport ship looked nondescript and Dick felt oddly unsettled by that development. He had expected a demon, the monster from his dreams, but there was nothing scary about the very normal ship in front of him.

It was a bit old. But most of the funding in Court affiliated sections of the galaxy went into the military, so Dick wasn’t too concerned to see an older model instead of the brand-new ones the Court also owned.

Older ships were safer – at least when it came to cyber security. That was also the reason why the Dark Knight was such a charmingly ancient trash bin. Bruce had to make sure that it was impossible to connect the system of his ships to the tech of any Alliance bound corporation.

Bruce was handling the comms, his voice clear and free of any sign of fear as he spoke into the transmitter:

“This is the Captain of the Dark Knight. Your ship requested help? We answered your call – permission to dock requested.”

At first only silence greeted them, and Dick was almost sure they would be denied access after they had traveled all that way off course, hope edging him on, but then a young female voice answered:

“Um… lead mechanic of the Young Justice… I think I just survived a mutiny…”

The floor dropped away underneath Dick’s feet. He had said they should answer the call, they had all known that it would be expected of them, but helping this ship would be a death sentence. Not because of the Court… but because of the failsafe every Court associated ship carried.

“We can’t help them.”

Dick had spoken before Bruce had had a chance to answer, and the man’s gaze was steel when it fell on Dick. They might have fought, but before today Dick and Bruce had always agreed on one thing: They would always try to save everyone.

But how…? There would be no one left to save soon enough, and they would only kill themselves in the process should they try.

But Dick’s Captain turned back towards the comm, his voice gentle as he spoke:

“Can you tell me what happened? What is your name?”

“Um… sorry… my head is still a bit fuzzy… eh, my name is Stephanie Brown and… I don’t know. I had off-hours when the yelling started and then… well, then people suddenly got sick…”

_ And died _ – Dick’s mind supplied. He had only seen the effects of the gas the Court used to kill the members of a ship committing treason once, and that had honestly been enough.

The Court didn’t negotiate with traitors, the burn on Dick’s face a sure sign of that.

Bruce’s voice was still unbelievably gentle, when he continued to speak:

“Stephanie… are there any survivors?”

“Um… I think… one of the bridge guys is still breathing. He is pretty young, so…”

“We are coming to get you, Stephanie. If you can bring all survivors to the docking station that would be great.”

“I… I… okay, I think I can do that.”

With that the transmission ended and silence fell over the bridge of the Dark Knight. This was a bad idea. A phenomenally bad idea. And Dick… he had spent hours with Jason, just to lose his fear of saying what he thought.

Disagreeing on purpose felt so different than snapping out of anger or annoyance – before this moment Dick had only ever disagreed with Bruce to test their limits, to act out when the pressure inside of him got too bad… but now he was doing it, because he wanted to, because it was the right thing to do.

He repeated:

“We can’t help them.”

“Grayson.”

There was a warning tone in Bruce’s voice, but Dick didn’t let that stop him:

“We can’t help them. Even if they magically survived, the poison the Court uses to kill traitors is a fast-acting contact gift. They would kill all of us.”

“It is our duty to help.”

“And how can we do that if it kills us all? How will we save the galaxy when we die for a girl that is damned anyway?”

At that Bruce’s face softened, and Dick felt something deep inside of him ache:

“Dick, I know you’re scared, but nobody will hurt-“

“A quarantine station!”

Jason had broken through the tension easing out of Dick, his voice excited his eyes bright. Jason wanted to save people as well – and sometimes he just thought outside the box. Bruce was looking at the Horrk as well, something quizzical in his gaze:

“What do you mean?”

“We… Al’fred surely has a decontamination suit, right? Okay, we send Al’fred in the suit into the sealed docking station, helping the survivors into our ship. So far so good – then we use the decontamination spray surely stored somewhere on this ship to clean them, before quarantining them for fourteen days. After that we… we bring them to the showers one after the other, the person guiding them wearing the suit, and then… they should be good to go.”

It was a solid idea, and yet Dick couldn’t find it in himself to be as excited as Jason sounded, or Bruce looked. It just felt… wrong. But at the same time he could see that he was overruled and for some reason it didn’t feel horrible.

Dick was just… okay, yeah, he was sacred.

This was the closest they had come in contact with official Court business since Dick had escaped, and over the years his fear of the Alliance getting their hands on him hadn’t decreased – no with every horror, Dick realized he had survived, his fear of them grew.

Bruce followed through with the idea Jason had offered, Al’fred waiting inside the sealed docking bay when Jason finished the maneuver to connect the two ships. Dick and Bruce were waiting on the other side of the see-through door, as the steel hatch switched open.

On the other side two people waited for them: a human girl below the age of eighteen, her dirty blond hair falling into her face, and her entire body screaming exhaustion and pain, and a human boy, also young, with dark hair, and white skin tinged green. The boy was limp in her arms. She staggered as she dragged him over the gap separating the two ships.

Al’fred welcomed them, taking the heavy burden from the girl’s arms quite literally.

But there was some fire still left inside of her, because as soon as her companion was no longer weighting on her, she stomped towards the glass separating her from Bruce. Dick had to push down the physical reflex to push Bruce behind him. Instead he simply tensed and waited for her next move.

“What’s going on here? You said you’d help!”

Her voice was angry and frantic and… okay, maybe Dick understood why Bruce so desperately wanted to save her.

“Hello, Stephanie, I assume? I am Bruce Wayne. This is my second in command Dick Grayson. We… we need to make sure that my crew is safe before I can allow you to board. But don’t worry, I will take care of you and your companion.”

Stephanie’s eyes flickered towards Dick, and for a moment he could see her tense when she recognized the scar burned into his face, but then she relaxed and said:

“You’re not military, are you?”

“No, we are not. Neither are you?”

“Was a trading ship – the Captain tried to make a deal with a Talon Officer… crew didn’t like it. They paid the price.”

Some of the worry thrumming through Dick’s body fell away. They weren’t military – they were far away from it.

They wouldn’t sell him out, they wouldn’t hurt him. At least, if Bruce made sure that the poison never reached them.

Bruce was smiling next to him – not a happy smile, but a friendly one:

“You said you were the head mechanic? Rather young for that.”

“When the other ones died, I gave myself a promotion. Felt fitting in what I thought was the last moment of my life. Wouldn’t wanna die as an apprentice a month away from her final degree – so head mechanic it is.”

“As soon as this ordeal is over… would you be interested in a job as a full-time paid mechanic on board the Dark Knight? The pay is good.”

Dick nodded. 

At some point Dick would get over the fact that Bruce just… hired people without a second thought. But then again his ability to judge characters and personalities hadn’t yet failed them – Bruce had denied quite a few people the chance to work on his ship – so Dick would allow it.

And yet… Dick motioned towards the slumped form of the boy laying on the floor, where Al’fred, in his bulky suit, knelt next to him, and asked:

“What about him?”

Stephanie barely spared a glance towards her companion, her eyes glinting with the promise of money and a job:

“So, first of all, it would be an honor. Second of all, I am going to throw up in like a minute and third of all… I think that's the TO of the ship? A boy genius or something, best in his class in advanced math, a bit of a nerd, a bit of a geek, but apparently a… okay, throwing up…”

And Stephanie did just that, her shoulders hunching as the waves of nausea dragged her under. Dick let her have her privacy, his eyes focused on the boy in the corner of the docking area. A TO, probably one with normal training and not a heavily military propaganda influenced one. A Tactical Officer… but with a finished degree, something Dick never managed…

Dick hadn’t even realized that he had stopped breathing, when Bruce’s hand came to rest on his back, the warmth a reassurance for Dick’s racing heart. His Captain’s voice was soft, and comforting when he whispered into Dick’s ear:

“First of all, we don’t know if he wants to stay… and second of all? Didn’t you hear what I said? I need you to… I want you to be my second in command, my first lieutenant… wouldn’t that be something that would make you happy, Dick?”

Dick looked at Bruce and he searched for pity in the gaze of the man who had arguably saved him from a far worse fate… but there was none. There was just honest trust and appreciation.

A hot feeling rose inside of Dick, and the first tear had to fall, before he realized that he was… crying. Dick hadn’t cried since he’d been ten, when an officer hit him for calling himself Dick instead of Talon17b.

It was… too much. Dick excused himself with a sharp nod towards Bruce, hopefully signaling that he accepted the promotion, before he fled the scene.

The tears running down his face weren’t for an audience, they belonged only to Dick. He hadn’t cried in so long, it felt a bit like dying. All the emotions he had pushed down for over a decade suddenly, forcefully returned – giant monsters of fear and pain and deep, deep sorrow crawling up his throat.

He had barely reached the door to his quarters when the first sob escaped him.

He had the feeling that he would be crying for a long, long time – he had survived a lot in the past ten years that was worth crying over.

Scenes replayed in his mind again and again… his parents… the faceless training officers… the tasteless slurries… the beatings… the pain… and then… Bruce. The memories got brighter and more diverse after that. Bar fights… laughing… joking…

Fighting.

Fighting with Bruce.

Jason teaching him how to curse in the Horrk Common Language.

Al’fred explaining spices to him.

O.R.A.C.L.E. downloading a book of children names.

Bruce telling him that he cared.

Dick had been sobbing for hours by the time Bruce knocked on his door. The man made sure Dick was looking at him before he moved. Bruce was always cautious to stay in Dick’s sight when Dick showed signs of distress and… and only now did Dick realize that Bruce was doing it on purpose.

His Captain took a seat on the only chair not buried underneath Dick’s clothes, and offered a tired smile:

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I apologize for that.”

“You had every right to. I misbehaved.”

Dick’s voice was scratchy and dry, but he didn’t care. His chest felt tight and warm at the same time – Bruce was here.

“I knew that you were frightened and under a lot of stress. I shouldn’t have let my worry for you get the best of me – especially not like that. We should have talked about it… but instead I only scared you further. That was never my intention, I am truly sorry.”

“I… thank you. I shouldn’t have acted out the way I did… I… Sometimes I feel very weird. Like a child and an adult in one body.”

It was a true admission. Dick had killed people with his bare hands before, even if he had never enjoyed it, and he had been owned like a piece of meat. He was a tactical prodigy, great with numbers, and a natural at violence… and he liked bright shirts, and children’s books, and had no idea how his emotions worked 90% of the time.

Bruce looked so sad, when Dick said that, and for a moment he feared that it had been the wrong admission to make, but then Bruce straightened up.he look in his eyes was almost one of love:

“That… is sadly normal for the world we live in. The things we survived… the things you survived… they make you feel helpless, especially since you weren’t allowed to have a childhood. And… and it is normal that some of your more ‘childish’ desires come out now – when you feel safe enough to explore what you never had. And… I will never judge you for that, it would be cruel of me to do so. I grew up years after I reached adulthood as well…”

“You…?”

“Don’t say you haven’t noticed my excitement whenever we meet someone new.”

Dick sat up, tears still running down his face, and watched Bruce smile ruefully, his hands twisting and turning and twisting some more:

“Um… I have…”

“Yeah, I… after my parents were killed by a rogue cop and the city did nothing, I wasn’t allowed to stay with Al’fred. The anti-interspecies family laws were still firmly in place back then, so I was sent to a strictly all-human boarding school. 

“They were cruel… I… I learned how to be a cruel person as well, but I didn’t like it. Al’fred got me out of there when I was seventeen, and it took years before I realized… that the child I had been, the child that had enjoyed model spaceships and explorers was… allowed to exist.”

Bruce didn’t sound sad, he sounded… he sounded relieved:

“And, I didn’t live through what you or Jason, or even Stephanie and the boy survived… but I remember the first time I allowed myself to cry for the innocence I lost as a child. And it helped me. I am sure… I wanted to make sure that you understood that as well.”

“So… me crying?”

“It’s good. It’s really, really good, Dick… because I was a bit scared for you… when you didn’t cry. You only grew angrier… and jumpier, but you never cried.”

Dick watched as Bruce explained and talked, and he felt something ease inside of him. It was as if Dick’s soul was getting lighter with each month he spent on the Dark Knight.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For saving my life in that pub a year ago.”

“Well, then thank you for giving me a goal worth fighting for.”

For a moment, silence bathed Dick’s small room, and then Dick found the strength to say:

“Can you go now? I want to… I want to be just me for a bit, whoever that is.”

“Of course, and don’t forget to come to the bridge as my lieutenant tomorrow.”

With that Bruce left, and Dick… Dick cried some more.

* * *

Dick finished his story just as Al’fred put an enhanced healing bandage over the gash on Dick’s face, which he had just sewn shut.

Dick still remembered that time, remembered how fragile he had felt.  He had been young and inexperienced then. Being promoted had felt so grand, even though he had always known it was little more than a formality.

Nowadays Dick sometimes wished for the simple days back, when his intelligence had been needed for calculating and navigating – it had been so much easier to figure out how the ship was supposed to fly, than to be the tactical influence into Bruce’s attempts to save the universe.

That, and he hadn’t been Jason superior, only his equal.

Not that anyone on this ship took their title to mean more than a job description, but over the years, Dick had been forced to make decisions that greatly impacted the ship and the crew – and he hadn’t always been able to make the choice that would have been the best for Jason, or Tim, or Steph – and later Damian and Cass.

Because the Captain and the ship came first, even if that sometimes destroyed him.

But he hadn’t done anything unforgivable yet – would likely never get the chance to, now – so Dick tried to see himself as a lucky lad, or at least not as an extremely unlucky one.

The world was still spinning around him, when Al’fred finished up. The hands of the old Junkan were a calming presence to a mind caught up in memories.

“Everything finished up, Dick… I shall now look after Cassandra and Stephanie; they might be hiding something…”

“Please do… and thank you, Al’fred.”

The man answered with a nod, before shuffling away, leaving the bridge and its occupants behind.

Dick decided to take stock again, his thoughts previously too occupied with the day's past, for him to accurately pay attention to what was going on around him.

He was alone on the bridge with Tim and Damian, the boy sitting in one of the extra TO chairs, with a scowl on his face. Directly opposed to Damian sat Tim, working on the configurations of something. He was probably still trying to save their lives.

Dick should too. He should be doing more, instead of just uselessly sitting around, bleeding and reminiscing and not helping anyone.

But first…

“Where is the Captain?” He asked the room at large.

Nobody answered for a moment, Tim probably not hearing him, and Babs’s processors occupied with being everywhere at once. And then Damian spoke, his voice petulant and small:

“Father is with T’odd… apparently there is something wrong with the engine.”

There was always something wrong with the engine. Dick could feel the dread settle in his bones. Their chances were already close to zero, but with every new thing that was discovered, it became even less likely for any of them to survive this.

Dick wasn’t even particularly sad about himself. Of course, he wanted to live, but… in a way he had already been given a second chance, he had already found out who Dick Grayson was: someone who could dare to be happy most of the time.

But Damian?

Damian had been with them for two years now, and he had grown on them. He was angry, with fire dancing over his skin, and he was intelligent – he especially loved the mechanics Steph showed him. But most importantly? Damian was an artist. And he showed affection that way.

It was weird to look at the Half-Terrainian child in front of him and think that he was hiding his pain and his fear behind a wall of fury. In the past they had all fallen for Damian’s mask of anger, as he threw insults around. Which was… asinine on their part.

All of them were broken people, products of broken childhoods… Why had they failed for so long to see the symptoms in Damian?

Maybe because he was Bruce’s… maybe because Damian made it hard for them to get close… or maybe because none of them were perfect.

But luckily those days were long gone – Dick looked at Damian and saw horror in the jutted-out lip, in the faint green tracings around his eyes, in the trembling of his left knee.

“I am sure everything will turn out fine… someone will hear our distress signal and bam we are saved.” Dick tried to soothe over his rough edges. 

Damian wasn’t having it.

“Hah, only if it happens in the next two days and only if it isn’t the Court or the League… hell, with how frequently Father raided Great Alliance bases over the last few years, I would be surprised if anyone officially affiliated with them would be happy to see us.”

Dick had always known Damian was awfully intelligent. Only intelligence helped little when you were a kid and had no control over your life – Dick knew that well enough. So did the rest of the crew.

Damian was well aware of the horrors they were facing – and he was terrified. Terrified in a way that Dick was as well. Only he was an adult now, only he had grown past the age in which he needed comfort when he felt like this.

“And yet we will make it. We will survive.”

“How can you possibly know that, Grayson?”

Their eyes met, green orbs connecting with Dick’s blue eyes… and Dick swallowed. This child deserved to survive. So did Tim and Steph and Cass – they hadn’t had a chance yet to grow up, and it was making Dick unbelievably sad to think that they might not get one.

“Because I might as well just give up, if I don’t believe in a good outcome. Why fight if there is no way to win? But that’s not me… and that’s not you either, kid. So, we fight for the good ending– even if it seems hopeless.”

With that Dick pushed himself up from the Captain’s chair, only swaying slightly as he made his way towards Tim. The young man sat there with hunched shoulders and a concentrated tension running down his spine.

Tim was in work mode.

Well, Dick was in Lieutenant mode:

“Drake. Report.”

“Distress signals have been sent on every known ISA standard frequency, and over a hundred illegal rebel ones – someone will hear us, the question is if they will be fast enough to save us. With Babs’s help, I managed to reroute and circumvent some of the emergency protocols… that bought us a day of oxygen, but means we can’t shower anymore, or use any excess water.”

“Thank you… Good job.”

At that Tim turned around, a surprised look on his face… and a smile on his lips.

“Hey, Grayson, didn’t notice you were back on your feet. Everything alright?”

“A headache to kill a Drakon… but tell me if you have anything for me to do, and I’ll do it.”

Tim seemed to think about the offer, and Dick was once again reminded of the fact that Tim had done so much growing up in the last few years. They hadn’t known each other for forever, but three years living together on a ship as small as theirs, forced you to get to know people intimately, rather quickly.

The Tim, who first started working for the Dark Knight, had been a quiet and silent observer. He had jumped at every loud noise, and he cowered in front of Bruce in a way not even Dick had, when the man had reminded him of the Court.

And then Tim had unfurled. Suddenly, his presence started to take up space, and Dick found that Tim was rather lax with the rules sometimes – and unfairly good at math.

(even if Tim’s hobbies still made him a complete nerd)

“I mean, I would like it best if you could just sit back down, since you are literally swaying, Grayson, but since you won’t do that… Babs, has anyone checked the hatches to the sealed area manually yet?”

“Not yet, but if Boy Blunder wants to do us the honors – and sits back down after – why not?”

Tim shrugged, as if to say ‘that’s what we have’ before he returned to the calculations on the screen in front of him. And Dick followed Babs and Tim’s offer… it was an easy job, something Damian would have been sent to do, if his leg hadn’t been busted, but at least it was something to do.

The entire frame of the bridge shuttered, just as Dick made his first step towards the door separating the cockpit from the rest of the ship. He stumbled, his stomach lurching, but he managed to catch himself on his hands before his head connected with something sharp again.

Babs’s alarm voice was blaring over the speaker:

“ **De-Pres-Sur-Ized-En-Gine-Room-EMERGENCY-De-Pres-Sur-Ized-En-Gine-Room** ”

Fuck. No.

_ Fuck! _

Dick scrambled back on his feet, running towards the door. Behind him he could hear Tim stand up as well and Damian was yelling something. But Dick had no time for this. His voice was pure steel when he addressed them:

“You stay here! This is an order! Send out distress signal after distress signal! Damian help Tim!”

“But…”

“No buts! Not one person more than necessary is going to put themselves in danger! I will send Al’fred here…”

With that Dick pushed through the doors, the automatic opening function no longer worked. The world was bathed in red dancing lights. Ringing filled his ears. The sound was partly due to the loud noise of the alarm and partly due to his concussion.

He made it most of the way towards the engine room. Air was getting harder and harder to breathe, before another explosion hit the ship, and Dick was flung against the wall. His head connected with one of the pipes running over every vertical surface of the ship. Dick barely felt himself fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your feedback gives me life!!! <3<3<3

**Author's Note:**

> Discussions of Space Slavery, Off Screen Violence/Branding, Threats of Violence, Threats of Slavery, Alcohol Mentions, Concussion, Head Wound - Non-Graphic


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